I’m busted flat in San Jose with the Boston blues again…or something like that.

When M. was stuck in Boston and then I flew here back to back, it just didn’t feel right somehow. It wasn’t fun and like a couple of castaways. It was aggravation and trying to get our schedules even minorly in sync.

Originally, I had thought a quick trip would be good, since I have so much to do at home. But, with his insistence I booked a longer stay, believing in the fantasy that together we would look at apartments or talk about jobs or look toward the future.

None of that is happening, and the future is murky at best.

I want so much to figure out what went wrong or work on making things right, but I don’t know where to begin. And, I honestly just want to run from the feeling of being in the way. I am so poor at handling another person’s anger at me, and I don’t want to slide into putting up with someone else’s anger and swallowing my own feelings just to make things “work.”

I probably shouldn’t even be writing. But, it’s been a long, long time since I’ve felt as alone as I do at this moment.